


A Cheerful Party

by Clocketpatch



Category: Blake's 7
Genre: Angst and Humor, Birthday, Crack Treated Seriously, Drunkenness, Everything Hurts, F/M, Gen, Post Gauda Prime, Scorpio crew gets smashed, Strip Tease, Tarrant being rubbish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-09
Updated: 2013-12-09
Packaged: 2018-01-04 03:46:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1076172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clocketpatch/pseuds/Clocketpatch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tarrant didn't get a proper 21st birthday the first time around. This time, he's determined to get it right. He doesn't. And he's going to need another drink before it's over. They all will. This fic takes place PGP. This fic is also drunk. Unfortunately, the author doesn't have that excuse...</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Cheerful Party

 

Tarrant was staging a re-do of his 21st birthday. Blake had managed to get out of it by being _terribly busy_. Vila suspected that being _terribly busy_ when these kinds of social events came up was one of the perks of being President of the Galaxy.  
  
Dayna was there by default, being the lucky birthday boy's fiancé and all. Soolin was there to keep Dayna company, and to be the designated driver - a role which Vila had firmly vetoed. Not that he'd been nominated in the first place.  
  
Vila had absolutely no idea why Avon was attending, though he had a suspicion it tied back to Blake's terrible busyness. Work, Vila thought, was an awful thing. It caused pain even to those who weren't working. Even to innocent by-standers like poor Vila, who would be spending an entire night in some kind of dance club trapped between Tarrant and Avon.  
  
Vila was attending because, well, no one would ever believe _he_ was busy. And besides, Tarrant had offered to pay for all the drinks.  
  
The fact that Tarrant had specified the rundown quarter by the old training base should have been a hint that no amount of free soma would make this a party worth attending. Vila made his way towards the appointed time and place, dragging his feet and trying to think of an excuse that would let him escape with grace, or at all.

The sign on the club probably read: "First Space Command Lounge." But the burnt out tube letters made it look more like: "Fi st  pace  Co  man  ounge." The place looked distinctly dingy and gone to seed. It felt unsafe standing on the street. It would probably be worse inside. Vila ducked through the door, feeling conspicuous.  
  
There were certain places that Heroes of the Revolution did best not to frequent, and this was definitely one of them.  
  
Inside, everything was lit a dull, throbbing red. The jukebox was set to a soundtrack of harps, triangles, and something like fingernails-on-a-blackboard and the volume was at the annoying level which is too loud and too quiet at the same time. The air was thick with the effluence of black market cigars. Worse, some entrepreneurial staff member had got a fog machine going. Whether it was to provide "atmosphere" or to conceal the holes in the roof and mouse droppings in the corner was anyone's guess.  
  
Vila felt the other patrons glaring at him through the fog as he made his way towards the sound of Tarrant laughing. The group's table was near the main stage. Tarrant and Dayna were happily downing shots. Avon had a glass of something amber and probably very expensive. Soolin had soda water.  
  
"Happy birthday," Vila said, perching on the edge of a seat with slashed red vinyl. "Lovely venue you've chosen. It really makes me feel nostalgic, this feeling that I might get stabbed at any moment."  
  
Soolin rolled her eyes. "Don't be such a child, Vila."  
  
"It's a valid fear!" Vila said. "A place like this..."  
  
"'s where I always wanted it to be," Tarrant slurred. "Good ol' FSCL... but then all of the stuff happened and the things, and you lot weren't very festive so..."  
  
"You're not the only one who missed important birthdays," Dayna said.  
  
"Nah... but we'll both make up together won't we?" Tarraant said. The pair exchanged a sloppy, drunk kiss. Vila tried not to be sick.  
  
Avon, meanwhile, sat still and implacable staring off into the distance. He'd barely taken a sip from his drink. Vila reached over, swiped it from him, and downed the lot. It _did_ taste expensive. Vila wiped the back of his mouth and slammed the glass down on the table. Avon failed to respond. Vila sighed.  
  
"Well, this is a cheerful party."  
  
"I'm gonna put on some better music!" Dayna exclaimed, standing up and wobbling away from the table towards the space jukebox.  
  
"Yes please!" said Soolin.  
  
Vila stood up as well and wandered to the bar. He wondered what the odds were of getting a spiked drink, but then, as he was planning to get blind drunk a dose of extra narcotics wouldn't make that much difference to the final result…  
  
The bar tender glared all through Vila's first order. And then through his second order as well, since Vila got nervous and downed the first drink right there at the bar.  
  
He weaved his way back to the table. Dayna was in Tarrant's lap now and the music was still awful.  
  
"So... what were you doing on your real 21st?" Soolin asked.  
  
"I was stranded on an experimental planetoid inhabited by enraged gorillas,' Tarrant said. He blinked. "I need another drink."  
  
An awful buzzing sound came from the stage.  
  
"What is that?" Vila asked.

The sound system shrieked again, forcing everyone's hands to their ears. Several of the other patrons, and the bar tender, glared at their table.  
  
"Maybe I pushed the wrong button?" Dayna said, and giggled.  
  
The shriek settled down to a background buzz which then swelled into a swinging tune that had topped the pre-revolution charts:  
  
 _The Federation's Got My Back_  
  
There was a line about gunning down rebels. Blake was mentioned by name. Avon's eyes bugged out and his hand tightened on his now empty glass.  
  
"Change it! Change it!" Vila squeaked.  
  
"I'm out of change!" Dayna said.  
  
"Well get some more!"  
  
A holo screen materialized over the stage and started playing the corresponding music visplay. Avon groaned.  
  
"Do something!" said Vila. "Tarrant, this is all your fault!"  
  
"How is it my fault?"  
  
"Of all the clubs you could have pick you -"  
  
Vila was cut off by a dry, breathy sound. He turned, horrified. Avon was laughing.  
  
"Oh god," Vila said. "Tarrant, Blake is going to kill us."  
  
Avon griped the side of the table, cackling. Tarrant was whiter than one of Servalan's ball gowns.  
  
"Oh my god," Soolin said, staring at the stage, transfixed. "Oh my god. _Tarrant_."  
  
Vila turned his head slowly, terrified of what new horrors might be being displayed onscreen. Nothing could have prepared him for Travis and Tarrant doing a strip-tease together against a flashing technicolor backdrop.  
  
"I will never sleep again," said Vila. "What is this? What _is_ this?"  
  
"That bastard," Tarrant said into his hands. "He told me it was for charity. He told me that they destroyed all of the copies after the first showing."  
  
The Tarrant onscreen slowly removed his trousers, twirling them dramatically over his head once he'd finished, before bending to help relieve Travis of his.  
  
And Avon just kept on laughing.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt was:
> 
> _Tarrant gets massively drunk and decides to get up and do a striptease. Venue is author's choice._
> 
> _Alternatively, Travis gives the most awkward striptease of all time._
> 
>  Somehow, I don't think it was supposed to be as massively depressing as it turned out, but it's all in the spirit of the show, right? Avon thought it was funny anyway...


End file.
